


Choosing People

by kowore



Category: Dream SMP (Fandom), Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Suicidal Thoughts, They are simply found family ur honor, brief mentions of, dream woke up and chose manipulation huh, enbyboo pog, if hybrid why human gender!!!, no beta we die like glatt, phil is a dragon hybrid instead of a bird because i say so, rlly its just a whole mess its like 1:30 am rn, the doc i wrote this on is called bluh clout, they/them pronouns used for Ranboo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28787442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kowore/pseuds/kowore
Summary: Ranboo finds the chest, finds the disk, and finds a surprisingly strong family, in that order.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 233





	Choosing People

**Author's Note:**

> Bolded text is Void, aka my very original name for the enderman language. Originally I was going to do glitch text but! I did not want it to be completely illegible so bolded it is :]

Endermen, perhaps surprisingly given their name, didn’t quite have a concept of gender. They didn’t communicate the way humans did, their sounds and tones unique to each one, and no one really ever questioned where more endermen came from. They called each other by name, or as ‘family’, and that was that. That was enough for them- they had more important things to discuss, after all, and even when they didn’t no one really cared overly much for small things such as that. The same applied to hybrids, for the most part- depending on what they were mixed with, their concept of gender would be different, of course- different species, different rules- but those whose enderman halves dominated whatever else they were tended to follow the same unspoken social rules as full endermen.

Ranboo found that they were much the same- they didn’t remember where, nor how, they’d grown up, and because of that when they stumbled into L’Manburg, they felt they had no right to correct the others on what they assumed they were. They did seem more masculine, by human standards, they supposed- and it wasn’t as if they cared enough to correct them, anyways. If they suppressed a small twinge of discomfort every time they heard ‘he’ from the lips of a citizen of the small country in which they’d made their home, well, no one was any wiser so long as they kept their mouth shut. It would be quite inconvenient to explain the complexities of it to the others, anyways- and remembering it, making a conscious effort to correct it, was more effort than they felt that small amount of comfort was worth.

Even after moving out, becoming neighbors with Technoblade and Philza, they found their lips shut about the topic- bringing up their discomfort only once with Edward after the other enderman had questioned their adopted family’s use of pronouns. With awkward, fumbling hisses, they had explained a small part of how they felt- and if Edward made an effort to correct Philza and Technoblade whenever possible, then only Ranboo himself knew, and if anyone questioned their small, fanged smile at Edward’s noises they gave no explanation beyond, ‘It’s an enderman thing’.

This system worked well enough, they thought- continuing for days, weeks, without incident- or, without any major incidents, that was. Philza was a busy man, and as such Ranboo didn’t really see him or talk to him very often- but after the first conversation in which Edward corrected him more than once, they found that, every time they talked to the man, he avoided pronouns altogether whenever possible. Even when talking to Technoblade did the man do this, he heard from Edward- using ‘they’ if he absolutely had to. They didn’t think anything of it, really- dismissing it as merely the man having noticed a flinch, perhaps, or coming across something regarding endermen and gender in one of his many research trips.

Until the next time they found themselves verging on panic, that was. The way they had torn at the grass of their lawn with their clawed hands after their shovel had broken, the soft waves of reassurance that they couldn’t have the disk, they would know if they did, and then the sudden, sheer horror of finding, looking in that chest hidden so close to the pets they held so dear- a broken sob ringing from their chest as they cried, for once, the tears burning hot down their cheeks. They deserved it, after all- they were a traitor, no better than those who were reviled and spit on by the people he called ‘friend’. Worse, even, because Dream, the one person who he knew to be able, could apparently _trust them_ , trust them enough that he would leave them in possession of a disk, one of the few extremely powerful items on the server, an item which held so much sway that Tommy would leave almost anyone to get it. Powerful enough that it had severed friendships, ended lives, caused more deaths than they could ever possibly hope to count. And it had been entrusted to them by Dream.

They didn’t realize that they had been running desperately until they were nearly to the nether portal- where they were going, they didn’t know, but what they did know was that they were currently flat on their back in the snow, winded and dazed, and a strange mixture of cries and apologies in both Void and English spilled from their lips. Quickly, they realized that there was another voice speaking to them- they strained past the fog of their mind, focusing on the familiar voice, until the world shifted back into focus enough for them to realize that it was Philza, who appeared to have been heading home after his most recent journey. Another apology quickly formed- but before they could breathe the first syllable, the older man seemed to notice what they were about to do, and quickly shushed them- gently, without any malice in his voice. It was comforting, almost- or, it would have been, if Ranboo didn’t find themself consumed with guilt beyond any reason, merely choking on another sob at the gentleness of his tone. They shook their head, tail lashing in agitation, broken syllables falling from their lips.

“Sorry.. traitor, disk in the yard, and- **Dream** , he trusted **me** , he **knows something** , please, **I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry** -”

“ **Shh, it's alright, Ranboo. Let's get you in the house and then we can talk, okay?** ”

A hesitant nod, as their breath left them again- there was another moment of dizziness, before they gave a distressed chirp and promptly blacked out, the stress becoming much more than they could hope to handle. The time spent in their mind was worse- even without the voice of Dream taunting them- they never heard him outside of the panic room, after all- they now knew there was something else in there, something else in _them_ , something that they had to eradicate, kill, draw out and destroy before it could hurt more of the people they cared about, more of their family. Trapped within their own brain, they screamed thoughtless challenges and threats into the void- knowing that there would be no answer, knowing that whatever else was there clearly couldn’t be drawn out by violence. It was a planner, after all, it was biding its time- it wasn’t strong, they knew that, that’s why it wasn’t in control more often. Every time they were under extreme distress, it seemed, until they slept next, that was when it had control, when it hurt those around them. But without someone else around to kill it when it was in control, what could they do? Destroy the body that they both seemed to inhabit?

With that unpleasant thought at the forefront of their mind, they broke the surface of consciousness once more- sitting up sharply, ideas swimming through the murky sea of their thoughts. That was the only plan they had at the moment- and they had lives, and totems, to spare. That was certainly an idea worth exploring, at least- though they would need to make sure that whatever it was didn’t take over in their next life, didn’t grow stronger when they-

“You’re awake.. welcome back, mate.”

A voice broke through their thoughts, their head whipping around quickly enough that it would have been funny- if they couldn’t feel bandages on their face and shoulders, if a wave of guilt didn’t rise up within them at the mere sight of the man who had offered them so much kindness since they’d arrived in this small section of the world.

They gave a hesitant nod- not yet trusting themself to speak, but not able to fake being asleep, as much as they wanted to do so. Some small part of their memory nagged at them- subconsciously, they retrieved their journal from their bag, jotting down whatever it was without daring to take his gaze off the man. If they were going to be executed for betraying everyone- they were going to take it head-on, at the very least. Even if it could ruin their handwriting and render the strange, nagging, whatever-it-was that was being written illegible, that would matter rather little once they were dead. Starting a new memory book was always a pain- but it was a small pain, especially in contrast to everything they themselves had done.

“How are you feeling now, bud? Talking, yes or no?”

The question was surprising, to Ranboo- a very slight shake of their head was their only reply, before they felt their hand stop writing, keeping the journal open but guarded from view. Part of him wanted to ask why Phil would even ask something like that, how the man knew- but it was a personal answer, most likely, and they certainly hadn’t earned the right to it, especially with what they had done.

Philza nodded, a gentle smile on his face as he did so- humming softly and speaking as if things were as normal as could be.

“Alright then! Let’s just stick to yes or no questions, then, and everything else I can ask later. Do you have any injuries under your clothes that need to be tended to?”

A slow, confused shake of their head.

“Lovely! Do you need to eat, or drink anything?”

Once more, Ranboo shook their head- they didn’t need to drink, period, and they had eaten at.. some point, recently, before their blind panic-dash to the portal.

“That’s good, then, you’re doing amazingly. Lastly, is there anything I can do to help until you feel able to talk again? Give you space, get anything- or anyone- from L’Manburg, anything like that?”

A final time, they shook their head- this time, a little too quickly, a gentle hiss of Void leaving their lips that anyone who didn’t know what the language sounded like would likely deem a normal sound of pain.

“ **No, I don’t deserve any of that..** ”

Surprisingly enough, they received a reply- a disapproving ‘hrrn’ from Philza, who frowned at them in an almost fatherly way.

“ **Of course you do, Ranboo. You deserve respect, at the very least, and don’t you ever say you don’t**.”

His reply was quick, and though his voice was slightly accented, the language was unmistakable. He had replied in a language that humans weren’t supposed to be able to speak- the sounds were too similar for their mouths to form them, or so Ranboo had thought. That’s what they’d been taught their entire life, after all- even they had had some difficulty with the language, they remembered that much. They remembered a high-pitched, childish chirp, the words just slightly off from what they had meant to say, and they remembered the frustrated hisses and clicks of disappointment that they knew perfectly, even now. They froze- eyes wide, before quickly replying- even their guilt seeming to fade by several orders of magnitude as shock encompassed them.

“ **I- I’m sorry, you speak- but how-?** ”

The question died on their lips, utter confusion on their face that Phil would have laughed at, were the situation any different. Even so, he let out a soft chuckle- his tone seeming fond as he replied with far too much ease.

“ **Yes, I speak Void. It was a tricky bugger to learn, I’ll admit, but- well, I lived in one of the Ends for a long while, you pick up quite a bit as you go. ‘Course, I’ve got some dragon blood a while back, so that probably helped too, but..** ”

He stretched easily as he continued speaking, wings flaring out behind him- and Ranboo’s attentiveness to his words faded as they realized what had always felt so familiar about them. Their color, so dark a purple that it was almost black, was the same as that of obsidian- his slitted pupils were clearly draconic, too, and god- how stupid had Ranboo been to not realize this? Bird hybrids were rare, yes, but rarer still were dragon hybrids- the mistake was one that likely everyone had made, but of course, very few birds could kill with as much ease and precision as a creature meant for dominating entire sections of the end. Even so, their thoughts spiralled- dragons weren’t kind to their subjects, the endermen lived in fear of them, from what they knew. Instinctively, they tumbled out of bed- their knees hitting the floor as they bowed, prayers and apologies tumbling from their mouth.

Phil blinked, clearly surprised- gently sitting Ranboo up with a concerned expression.

“ **Hey, hey now- it’s alright, it’s a few generations back- shit, right, I forgot that endermen do that.. you can get up, please, you’re already injured, take care of yourself, okay?** ”

Ranboo nodded shakily, leaning against the side of the bed without making an effort to stand. They didn’t feel like falling over, not at the moment, at least, but still gazed at Philza with some mixture of wariness, respect, and guilt. After their initial shock had faded, that had returned in full force, hitting them like a punch to the gut and leaving them non-verbal once more. Phil himself, luckily, didn’t seem annoyed- merely giving them a gentle, worried look, tilting his head slightly as if considering something. He didn’t speak again, though, and Ranboo was glad for the silence- though anxiety rose within them, they didn’t feel able to talk just yet, content enough to sit and process everything for the time being. It was pleasant, even if they dreaded the conversation that would surely follow- but eventually, despite the fact that the idea of forcing words out still seemed all but impossible, their guilt outweighed their inability to speak. They took a shuddering, hesitant breath- attempting to speak, failing, and trying again, more slowly.

“I’m s- I’m sorry, Phi-Phil, I reall- really am, I really really am, I-I don’t- I’m sorry.” they managed, before letting out a soft, frustrated hiss, tail lashing in irritation. Stupid, why couldn’t they just confess to what they had done? It would hurt less, hearing it from them rather than from Dream or anything like that, wouldn’t it? They had to try again, then, even if each word felt like molten metal poured over their tongue.

“I- D-Dream, he- he gave- disk, and- it’s, ‘ts not my fault, I didn’t- didn’t know, it is my fault- it- sorry, so s-sorry, please-”

Somehow, Philza seemed to know what they meant- gently shushing them even so, moving as if to put his hand on their shoulder but hesitating before doing so, his gaze locked on their hands- a small mercy, as Ranboo knew that any eye contact would send them over the edge, with their current state. Already, reality seemed to be fuzzing and blurring around the edges, and they fought to remain conscious.

“It’s alright, it’s okay, Ranboo, just breathe with me, okay? Are you alright with being touched right now?”

They nodded after a moment- feeling the gentle weight of Phil’s hands coming to rest on their shoulders, grounding them. His breaths were slow and deliberately loud, and he didn’t interrupt them with speaking, instead keeping up a steady pattern, which they managed to tune in to after several long minutes. Reality stopped blurring, their vision focusing slowly on the room around them, on the here and now. They still felt like shit- but at least they felt all here, now, no longer in danger of losing control. Eventually, they nodded- Phil taking the nod as a signal that it was alright to speak once more, which Ranboo was grateful for.

“Alright.. now, you said that Dream gave you a disk? Do you remember why?”

They shook their head, Phil’s expression surprisingly calm and gentle despite their answer. They’d expected something- something more. Something mad, or demanding- it was a breath of relief, to be treated as a person. They could see what Techno had meant in his speech at L’Manburg.

“That’s okay! That’s okay, Ranboo. Do you know where the disk is?”

They nodded.

“Do you know what you want to do with it?”

Now, that was certainly a question. They were so focused on what it had meant- the disk confirmed their betrayal, how could no one else see that?- that they hadn’t stopped to think about the item itself. Giving it to Dream was out of the question, returning it to the people who’d had it before him was too- what then? They weren’t on good enough terms with Tommy to explain why they had it, so that left..

They nodded.

“‘m gonna give it to Tubbo..” they spoke quietly, voice scratchy. “He won’t.. won’t push too hard. Won’t ask questions I can’t answer.”

Phil nodded approvingly, sending them a smile that, if they didn’t know better, they would think was very slightly proud. That was ridiculous, though, they were a traitor, a dead man waiting for their execution day at best.

“That’s probably a good idea, he’ll take good care of it. And Tommy will know where they all are, too..”

He continued thinking aloud for a moment, before Ranboo interrupted him with a soft sound of incredulity.

“You’re not- not mad?” they asked, fragile.

“Why would I be mad that Dream gave you a disk..? You’re a kid- probably easier to take it from you than the entirety of the Badlands- no offense, of course.”

“Because- because of what it means. I betrayed- everyone. I helped him start this war, destroy the house, I-”

Their voice climbed in pitch, tone taking on a slight, stressed edge. Phil’s expression, however, remained that same gentle look- softening into something else. Not pity, not quite, but- sympathy, maybe?

“Oh, Ranboo.. you didn’t help him start anything. This war has been going on for ages- if he wakes up and decides to take advantage of vulnerable children, then that’s not something that you lot can control. It’s not a good thing, what you did- but neither is it your fault. You’ve clearly beaten yourself up over it more than anyone else could, right?”

A hesitant shake of their head, which was met with a raised eyebrow from Phil.

“Then you letting yourself cry, running out in the snow with nearly-broken armor, and seeming like you were going to bolt at the first sound- those were you taking care of yourself? Not even a little bit fueled by guilt?”

They opened their mouth to- to do something, though whether it was a reply or a counter, they didn’t know, the words dying in their throat and their ears flicking back, ashamed.

“...Right. Ranboo, I’ll be honest with you- I’m not a good person. Living as long as I have, you- you fuck up, a lot. Very few people, even your age, have never hurt someone- if you’re a sentient, imperfect being, you’re _going_ to fuck up at some point. You didn’t choose to let him take advantage of your vulnerability, you didn’t choose to take the disk, you didn’t choose to be manipulated. Techno and I- we won’t hold this against you. Tubbo forgave Techno for the festival- he won’t hold it against you either. You can make it right, you know?”

They made a choked sound, viciously rubbing their hands against their eyes. They weren’t going to cry again, not from this gentle acceptance that they didn’t deserve. This country was filled with too many kind people- but oh, how they hoped what Phil had said was right. That they hadn’t ruined things, that they could be forgiven. A pair of arms wrapped around them, wings following barely a moment later, and a fresh wave of tears sprung up- this time, absorbed by Phil’s shirt, rather than staining their cheeks with burns.

They would be okay. They had to make amends, certainly, but they would be alright. Dream.. Dream was going to be a problem, but that wasn’t something they had to face alone. They had their family, after all. They had their people.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on:  
> -> twitter: @koworeart  
> -> tumblr: @kowore
> 
> Anyways hi <3 I hope yall enjoyed this I am very tired it's 1:30 am now gn


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